


Heal Me

by Lucifer_Rosemaunt



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Rosemaunt/pseuds/Lucifer_Rosemaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short post-surgery ficlet about Raoul on drugs and Erik at his bedside. AU. Based off a prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal Me

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Of course I can’t seem to find the exact prompt any more, but it was something to the effect of: imagine your OTP, A’s just gotten out of surgery and is so high on drugs that they don’t recognize B but still think that B is the hottest person ever. Should it be sad that I immediately wanted this to happen? So, a quick fic. Nothing profound. Just… Erik & Raoul to make up for the lack of any fic lately. Also, it’s some important people’s birthday and although this is late, Daisy’s birthday has come and gone. Go visit the fantastic E/R tumblr and wish her well. :)

o.o.o.o

“The surgery went well and you will be able to see him shortly,” the doctor said, “but he has a long road of recovery ahead of him. As with all surgeries, we will be watching him closely. His vitals remained steady throughout the procedure, which is a good sign towards his healing.”

More words followed, but Erik stopped really listening after the reassurance that Raoul had made it through the procedure and that he would be able to see him soon. A single door stood between him and Raoul, and after being denied for so many tiring hours, he could hardly be expected to go through the effort of pretending to listen.

“We can go over this at a later time,” the doctor said with a sigh, obviously noticing his inattention. “You are cleared to visit, but he is on several strong, post-surgery medications to help with the pain. He may not be very coherent and if he is, he may not recognize you at all. It is a normal reaction to the stress his body has been through and such disorientation will go away with time. There is no need to worry.”

But worry Erik did. Those last few statements stopped him short. Finally, the doctor had his full attention, but the rather exhausted looking woman who was Raoul’s surgeon had shifted her focus on some paperwork and was striding purposefully away, leaving him in the care of one of the nurses. He watched her leave and briefly considered chasing her down to demand more of an explanation. Instead, he took a tentative step towards Raoul’s door, trying to process her words.

Raoul might not recognize him or even know who he was.

Peering through the small glass window, he could see very little in the dim room, the privacy curtain having been drawn. He wanted to see him. It was a near physical tug to be by Raoul’s side to assuage the gnawing fear that had yet to fully go away since the ambulance ride that had brought them here. He _needed_ to go inside. He had promised Raoul that he would be there when he woke. Now, he wondered if he would even be welcome. Even the slightest chance that the younger man would not recognize him made him reconsider. He remembered how they were before, all the anger and fighting. They had not been able to stand the sight of each other. It had taken a lot to bring them together, to convince each other of their worth. Raoul had, on several occasions, pointed out that he looked not only unapproachable but also frightening, and Erik knew what that meant despite Raoul’s insistence that it was not a bad thing. The mask detracted from people seeing anything other than the mystery behind it or beyond the menacing glare such curiosity received. He was under no delusion that he was a handsome man, under no delusion that Raoul would have chosen him had their pasts been any different. He worried every day that the younger man would truly see him for what he was and leave. Seeing him now could very well aggravate his recovery and scare him unnecessarily.

“Sir,” a nurse startled him. “You can go inside.” She even went so far as to open the door for him and Erik could not think of a reason besides his own fear to not go in, at least none that he could say after having given the nurses such a hard time to this point.

“Thank you,” he muttered gruffly and was even more grateful when she did not follow him in. Rounding the privacy curtain, he halted once more.

Erik hated hospitals. He hated the smells, hated that the only thing he associated with them was death. Raoul should not be here. The younger man should not be attached to an IV drip, looking as pale as the stiff sheets that surrounded him. There was something about the lights, dim as they were, that was unforgiving and Raoul looked exhausted despite having been sedated for hours upon hours. However, his breathing was even and he was sleeping more peacefully than he had been able to these past few weeks and Erik felt himself relax the slightest bit.

A chair had already been pulled bedside, and he took a moment to brush Raoul’s bangs aside to kiss him on the forehead before dropping into the chair gracelessly. He gently tugged the blanket aside in order to reach Raoul’s hand. He stared at the swollen and limp hand resting in his own. At least the IV was attached to his other hand. Thumbs pressing in the heel of his palm and working up towards his fingers, he began to massage his hand in hopes of bringing more blood flow through. The repetitive motion calmed his own mind and kept him from going down the already well-worn path of what he would have done if he had lost Raoul. He closed his eyes and thanked whatever deity he could for keeping him safe.

So focused on the feel of his hand, he did not realize Raoul was waking until a muttered “Wha-?” drew his eyes up.  Erik clutched onto his hand even as he stood up abruptly, the chair squealing as it was shoved backwards. “Raoul?”

Raoul made small movements, twisting and turning in the bed but wincing every time he tried to move too far. Eventually, he settled and it took several long moments before he focused on Erik’s presence.

“Raoul, I…”

“Who?” his voice croaked. Raoul strained his neck to look around the room, eyes flitting from the machines to the IV in his arm to the hand within Erik’s and lastly to Erik himself.

And, Erik finally recognized the confusion that was clear in his expression. He was going to release his hold on the younger man and give him space, but Raoul was the one who held on, a barely there grip that Erik was all-too-happy to reciprocate.

They stared at each other for long moments. Erik waited nervously for Raoul to tell him to leave or ask questions about who he was or his mask while Raoul simply stared at him, looking slightly more coherent but without the recognition Erik hoped for.

Raoul squeezed Erik’s hand again and said slowly, “I…” He paused to clear his throat. “We know each other?”

Erik nodded.

“You’re…” he paused. The darkness below his eyes was even more pronounced at this angle, a stark contrast against his pale complexion. He seemed to be searching for a word and finally settled upon “staying?”

“Yes,” Erik finally replied and he did not know why his own voice croaked as well. “For you.”

Raoul’s lip quirked into a momentary smile before he rested his head back onto the pillow. He closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax once more, looking exhausted from even that slight effort. “Good,” he said. With a deep sigh, his breathing settled out once more. “You are very handsome,” he muttered and seemingly fell back to sleep.

Erik stared at their entwined hands for long moments before reaching behind him to pull the discarded chair forward. He sat down once more, not sure his legs would continue to hold him up. He bent forward to kiss Raoul’s knuckles, letting out a breathy laugh.

“You are so shallow,” he whispered but held on even tighter.

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: As mentioned already mentioned, this was totally one of those fic prompts that happened across my RSS feed and I kind of had to write it. I’m having horrible writer’s block and all the plotbunnies have decided to either go way into the realm of AU or just hide from sight. It’s frustrating at best.

Fic Review: I like to think that Raoul’s really on the good stuff in terms of meds and this isn’t going to be the last time he’s going to compliment Erik while completely high and disoriented. Honestly, Erik does not know how to react every time because what do you do about someone who does not have a filter, does not have the ability to lie at the moment and they just tell you how handsome and hot you are? It is not like he can deny it. I think it is good for his self-esteem anyway.

Either way, they’re in an established relationship, living together actually, and Raoul’s been feeling under the weather for a while before the start of this story and what really happened is that he had appendicitis but ignored it in favor of working and thought he had just eaten something bad. He loses sleep, stops eating anything solid, looks overall like death warmed over near the end when his appendix has, in fact, burst and has been leaking all those bad bacteria and pus into his body driving him nearly to septic shock. Erik finds him in the bathroom, huddled on the floor one night and he’s like that’s it. That’s the last straw and calls the ambulance. He gets the prognosis of a perforation in Raoul’s appendix and while he’s in the waiting room does the worst thing possible and googles what that means and the odds of people dying and while it isn’t common, it is possible and he thinks he has let it go on long enough that they’re probably at that point where Raoul has peritonitis and septicemia. It is only worse when he gets word that the surgery is over but it still takes so very long before the doctor comes to talk to him and he bothers the nurses and you know that’s a bad idea. Luckily, Raoul obviously wins them back over during his stay and Erik brings Raoul’s little gifts every time he visits and the nurses figure he can’t be that bad. And Raoul doesn’t remember complimenting Erik while he was drugged, barely remembers waking up that many times, and Erik almost considers teasing him about it, but instead decides to keep that information to himself, a little piece of information to comfort and convince himself that maybe they’d always had a chance to get together even without their shared past.


End file.
